


College On Ice

by FishHeadMan



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Ice Skating, M/M, lots of Makkachin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 04:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17257406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishHeadMan/pseuds/FishHeadMan
Summary: Fake dating AU where Yuuri and Victor go to college, and Yuuri teaches him how to ice-skate ;)





	College On Ice

The girl had blonde hair and a nose that could cut glass, and Yuuri desperately wanted her to stay. 

“But you’re in America, you have to see it.” 

The girl was whining, not to Yuuri, but to Phichit.

Phichit was the reason they were talking to the girl, and the reason they were at the frat party in the first place. He obviously wanted to leave with the girl, but Yuuri did not want to be left alone in a house full of drunk strangers, and worse, with Horatio. 

He also didn’t leave with them and impose on the move the blonde girl was making. 

Phichit glanced at Yuuri, and Yuuri smiled, waved his hands and said, “Go on, go on, I’ll be fine.” 

Phichit smiled and thanked him and left with the blonde girl. 

Yuuri stood there for a moment and watched them walk away.  
Then they were gone, and he was still standing there, mildly uncomfortable and suddenly very aware of how loud the music was and how little alcohol he had ingested. 

He looked around, then walked over to the fold-up table scattered with green solo cups, variations of box wine, and vodka. He poured himself a drink.

He felt like he was being watched and considered just going home. He hadn’t really wanted come in the first place, but Phichit wanted to, and he convinced Yuuri that they needed a night out after their club’s ice skating tournament went so well.

They had needed a night out, but Yuuri had been thinking more along the lines of a three a.m. trip to Denny’s. 

Yuuri took a swig of the cheap wine and took two steps away from the drink table. 

And there was Horatio. 

A foot and a half taller than him, Horatio was the football player who consistently, aggressively hit on him at the gym. He had hair the color dirty asphalt, paired with a face that looked like it had been stepped on. He was muscular in a way that was more intimidating than hot, and was standing close enough for Yuuri to smell the vodka on him.

“Yuuri!” he bellowed, throwing his arms wide open, sloshing half of whatever drink he was holding onto the carpet.

Yuuri smiled awkwardly and took a step back, “Horatio…”

Horatio took another stumbling step towards Yuuri, arms still spread, and that’s when Yuuri found himself with his back pressed against the drink table, bumping over empty solo cups and searching for freedom. 

And then he saw a person. 

Yuuri legitimately did not look at who they were or what they were doing, he just grabbed them and swung them around.

“Look Horatio this is my…”

Yuuri glanced at who he had grabbed. 

It was a mildly startled blonde man. 

“...boyfriend.”

“You’re gay?” grimmed Horatio, hope springing into his eyes. 

“Super gay,” answered the blonde man, putting his arm around Yuuri, 

“Exceptionally gay, really. Very gay, and very with a boyfriend.” 

“Sorry, Horatio,” finished Yuuri, relieved and grateful.

Horatio sized them both up. 

“Threesome?” 

Yuuri’s eyes went big, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no… Let’s not do that, that’s not what I meant...”

Horatio shrugged and downed whatever was left in his solo cup. “I thought it was  
worth a try.” 

Only when Horatio walked away did Yuuri turn to the blond man. 

“Thanks, and sorry I grabbed you,” he laughed, face bright red. 

“It was a pleasure,” laughed the blonde man. He smiled at Yuuri, kissed his hand, then walked away. He walked away like it was normal to smile at someone like you wanted to vanquish them in battle, and then kiss their hand. 

For a minute, Yuuri just stood by the drink table and blinked. 

Before he even recovered, a squealing brunette girl jumped him. 

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you and Victor - so what’s your name?”

“Yuuri?”

The girl grabbed his hand, and, dragging him forward and waving her other hand in the air, she screamed, “Viki! Viki I found your boyfriend! Where are you?”

They came into line of sight of Victor, and he smiled and waved, and the girl dragged Yuuri over to them.

Yuuri quietly wished he was at home and in bed. 

“Viki why didn’t you tell us you’re dating someone?”

“No, no, no,” Yuuri laughed, “we’re not dating, it was just…”

“It’s just that we’re soulmates,” interjected Victor. “We’re beyond dating.”

Victor swooped over Yuuri once again. 

Yuuri stared at Victor.

He smiled charmingly. 

Yuuri briefly wondered if he should have just been honest with Horatio and gone home, but that was hardly an option now. So he talked to Victor’s friends, and, if nothing else, he felt slightly less awkward and alone.

The party pulsed and swayed, as parties do. The music buzzed up and down, rolling with the mood of the room, and the light pushed, pulled, and waved until it finally snapped on, bidding them all goodbye. 

Four a.m. came far sooner than Yuuri expected, and far after he had intended to leave. 

It turned out that Victor was a fun person. He was a senior and a teaching major, he was loud, and a little blunt - but he also made sure everyone felt included, and was incredibly adept at lying on the fly. In the end, Yuuri had actually enjoyed himself, at a party. 

Outside, standing in the snow, he and Victor exchanged social media info, and that was that. 

It had been fun, but only fun.

Yuuri got up the next day, went to the rink with Phichit, and then went to class. It was a good day, but only in that uneventful, good-because-nothing-bad-happened type of way. 

Well, it almost was. 

While Yuuri was walking home from his Biology class, he was tackled from behind. He stumbled forward, locked in a bear hug.

“Yuuri!”

It was Victor. 

Yuuri turned around and blinked at him. 

“Hi?”

“Hello.” Victor grabbed Yuuri’s hand and started gently swinging it back and forth as he walked with him. 

Victor turned to him, serious, “So I know we’re only fake boyfriends, however: everyone thinks we’re really dating. So, we should pretend for a while.”

“Huh?”

“We’ll just pretend to date. I’m graduating at the end of the semester anyway, it’s just for a while.” He stopped walking and turned to Yuuri, gently grabbing his chin, “What, do you have a girlfriend?”

“What? No, I-”

“Great! Then you’ll be my boyfriend! I have to go to Astronomy lab, I’ll see you later!”

Victor stepped away from Yurri, blew a kiss at him, walked away. A little way off he turned around and waved. 

Yuuri waved back, mildly confused. 

Over the next few days, he and Victor messaged quite a lot - but to be fair, it was mostly Victor. “Yuuri you’re my fake boyfriend, come do homework with me,” or “Yuuri you’re my fake boyfriend, come get lunch with me.” Yuuri even got a text reading “You’re my fake boyfriend, come to my house and sleep in bed with me.” When Yuuri read that he turned bright red, and didn’t reply. 

Yuuri, in fact, entirely avoided Victor’s house, up until he learned about Makkachin. After that he went over a lot, because who could say no to a poodle? It reminded him of his dog back home. 

They watched horrible sitcoms, and he pet Makkachin, and Victor cuddled him on the couch. It made him a little uncomfortable at first - being laid on, or being pulled into a sitting hug, or Victor petting his hair - but over time, he got used to it. He got so used to it that he stopped coming over for Makkachin and started coming over for Victor.

Little by little, he started checking himself in the mirror before he went over, and laughing louder at Victor’s jokes, and pulling Victor into tight hugs, instead of the other way around.

The time he spent with Victor went from being fun and a little awkward, to legitimately lovely. He started liking weird little things, like the way Victor smelled, even when he didn’t smell nice, and all of the different ways he smiled, or how he was calm when Yuuri wasn’t.

All the little things just kind of snuck up, and Yuuri just kind of let them. 

One night, laying on the couch, watching TV and listening to Victor breath, Yuuri realized something. 

“Victor?”

“Hmm?” Victor was mostly asleep. 

“You’ve never seen me skate.”

“What?”

“I’m a figure skater, remember? That’s why I’m in America.”

“Oh yeah,” Victor rolled off of Yuuri and stood up, stretching his neck. “Let’s go.”

“Go where? It’s two a.m.”

“To the ice rink. I’m sure you can get in with your student ID, even at this time.”

“Really?” Yuuri sat up. He was excited now. 

“Yeah,” smiled Victor, extending his hand, “Let’s go.”

And so they went. 

While they walked, freezing cold, to pick up Yuuri’s skates, Yuuri learned that Victor skated a as a child. After a while he switched to ballet, but then he had to quit when his family moved. 

“It made me pretty sad at the time,” Victor continued, “but life goes on.” He smiled, simultaneously like it was funny and terribly sad, and they arrived at Yuuri’s dorm. 

“I guess I’ll have to teach you how to skate,” Yuuri smiled. 

Victor laughed, “Absolutely.”

Fifteen minutes later they were at the ice rink. Yuuri swiped a pair of skates for Victor, strapped on his own, and glided onto the ice.

He spun around just in time to see Victor wobble onto the rink. 

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Victor laughed. 

He looked like an actual baby deer, and Yuuri smiled, but didn’t say anything. 

Victor pushed himself off from the wall, and slowly slid toward Yuuri, arms stretched out like an airplane. Yuuri caught him in a stumbling hug, and stopped both of them from falling over.

“Okay,” Victor bent and pulled his face back, so it was directly in front of Yuuri’s. 

“Teach me how to ice skate.”

Yuuri laughed and gave Victor a soft push, so they were standing free of each other.

“Alright, bend your knees.” 

Victor bent his knees, arms still out. 

“Now take little steps forward, then point your toes out so you glide.”

Victor took two tentative steps forward before pulling himself into an unprepared, but graceful glide. Yuuri smiled and skated up next to Victor, then gently took his hand, flipped himself around to face him, and started to pull him around the rink while skating backwards. 

Victor’s face split into a smile, “You’re pretty good!”

Yuuri shrugged, still skating backwards, “Eh, you only say that because you’re not a figure skater.”

“Then let me go, show me what you can do.”

Yuuri blushed, then carefully left Victor by the wall. 

He skated to the center of the rink, took a deep breath, and began. He honestly tried harder than he had in a long time; he really wanted Victor to think he was good - even though Victor had no idea what a good versus bad figure skater looked like. 

He even threw a jump into the second half, despite Victor not knowing why that was hard or especially impressive.

He didn’t land it, but got right back up and hoped he pulled it off anyway. 

When he finished, he leaned on his knees and panted for a minute, and he heard Victor clapping from the wall. Yuuri stood up and skated over to him, wiping his forehead with the back of his sleeve. 

“That was really good!” said Victor, “but did you fall after that jump?”

Yuuri laughed shyly, “Only a little.”

“Well I guess you’ll have to practice more,” Victor laughed. He grabbed Yuuri’s shoulders and pulled them together. 

For a moment, Yuuri thought Victor was going to kiss him, and for a moment he wanted him too - but it was just a hug, and Yuuri hugged him back.  
They were only fake boyfriends, after all, and Victor was still moving back to Russia in a few months. 

“Now teach me how to do that!” yelled Victor, pushing himself off of Yuuri, his Russian accent bouncing off the distant walls. 

Yuuri skated over to him, caught him around the waist, and guided him around the rink. 

It was fun, but only that. 

It kept being fun during midterms, and it was still fun after spring break, and it  
was fun right up until graduation. 

And then it wasn’t fun anymore. 

Victor graduated. Yuuri was there, he clapped and smiled and they took pictures. They went out and got celebratory ice cream with friends, they held hands and made jokes, and Victor walked Yuuri home. 

And then they broke up. 

Victor hugged him, and Yuuri, once again, thought that he was going to kiss him, but it was still just a hug. It was still just a fake break up, to a fake relationship.  
With his head on Victor’s shoulder, Yuuri realized that were friends, and that was it. That’s probably all it had been. 

Fun. 

When Victor let him go, Yuuri thought he could see him crying, but Victor smiled anyway, and Yuuri smiled back. Victor walked away and waved goodbye, and then he was gone. 

Yuuri turned walked up the stairs to his room. For a moment, on the stares, he was almost happy, and maybe a little empty. He got to his room, opened his door, and sat on his bed. 

He sat there for a moment and stared at the wall, holding onto that little, trembling string of fun - of happyness that had been Victor Nikiforov.  
And then the string snapped, and all at once, he sobbed. 

It hadn’t been just fun. 

It hadn’t. 

It hadn’t been just fun, and he wanted Victor back, and he kept crying because he couldn’t stop, and there was no way to get Victor back now. 

It hadn’t been just fun. 

Later that night, Phichit came home with a stupid movie, bubble tea, and the best American knock-off of a pork cutlet bowl he could find. The bubble tea and rice bowl were both fairly bad imitations, but they helped anyway.

The week dragged on. Yuuri wasn’t going home for break, he was taking summer classes with the late bloomers and hard workers, and many other foreign students. 

Yuuri kept skating, but he also ate a lot of ice cream.

For the first few days, he and Victor messaged each other every night, but mostly it was Yuuri. 

“Victor, I’m your fake boyfriend, send me Russian candy,” and “Victor, I’m your fake boyfriend, send me pictures of Makkachin,” but by Thursday, Victor stopped replying. 

On Saturday morning, when Yuuri still hadn’t heard from him, he gave up. There are only so many texts you can send to someone before you look pathetic.  
Resigned, Yuuri walked across campus to the ice rink, like he was supposed to. 

Five hours later, and well into the afternoon, Yuuri was a sitting on the bench, joking with Phichit. 

That’s when Victor texted him back. 

“Yuuri, I’m outside your dorm let me in.” 

When Yuuri read it, he froze.

“What is it?” asked Phichit. 

“Victor’s here.”

“What? From Russia?”

Yuuri nodded, eyes still locked on the phone.

“Well go get him, you moron!” Phichit laughed, pushed Yuuri, and stood up.

Yuuri did go get him. He didn’t even put his shoes on. He yanked off his ice skates and ran across campus in his hockey socks. 

He saw Victor, standing outside his building, with his back to him. 

Yuuri tackled him from behind, “Victor!”

He let go just long enough to let Victor turn around, and then he kissed him. 

It wasn’t just fun, it was lovely and beautiful. 

It was life and it was love. 


End file.
